


How to Talk to Fluffy Boys

by foxsgloves



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Lancer and Susie are gay/lesbian solidarity, M/M, fluffy just like Ralsei's soft fur TM, how does one Romance A Boy, the T rating is for Tier 2 Swears, the goofy gay rad teen romcom nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-28 06:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxsgloves/pseuds/foxsgloves
Summary: In an effort to impress his crush/royal advisor/favorite sweet little peach, Lancer and his best pal Susie enlist help from both the Card Kingdom and Susie’s hometown for tips on how to flirt with cute fluffy boys.That’d work great if they weren’t all just as useless as he is.





	1. The Sweet Little Peach He Loves to See

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for my life Toby Fox!! And thank YOU for stopping by to read this goofy little fic about a rarepair!

It turned out being a king was a lot of hard work, even if you shared with three other kings. Lancer, as a rule, does not like hard work. He likes popping sick wheelies on his bike, osmosing entire gallons of milk in one sitting, and sleeping a lot. But it turns out he also likes the happy, contented expressions on his subjects’ faces when he tells them that he’s moving the puzzles on the Great Board so they can actually walk to work (using his royal influence to make Lesser Dad do it for him, that is), or he’s buying out the whole bake sale to share, or he’s reinstating Straight Flush Day, and also that Straight Flush Day will now occur EVERY Thursday, and some lucky Saturdays too. Now they call him One Quarter King Lancer instead of “that weird kid with the bike that's on fire,” which is pretty nice too.

He even has a functional new royal partnership, as his first act as One Quarter King had been to appoint Ralsei as his Royal Advisor, because Ralsei is really smart and actually knows how to do math and stuff, plus he’s also good at resource management. “Well, why not?” said Ralsei, beaming, upon being asked. “There’s not much going on at home. I can be more useful here!”

And useful he is, because at Lancer’s last estimate, seventy-nine percent of the kingdom actually depends on him for proper functioning. He doesn’t seem to mind that he does all the work and doesn’t get called King or even prince, though, because Ralsei is the sweetest little peach alive and “Just seeing all your smiles is enough to make me feel like I’m doing a good job!”

The only problem is that whenever he and Ralsei are in official royal hearings, or going over the budget ledger, or conducting a peaceful ceremonial battle with the checker rounds (they're into that sort of thing, who knew?) he can’t concentrate at all. Like today, for example. They’re having a meeting with the ruddins to talk about how they keep selling everything in the castle for money, including the elevator, the doors, and most personally, Lancer’s bike. And he doesn’t pay any attention at all because he keeps watching Ralsei fiddle nervously with his hands and turn up his snout.

Well, it isn’t like he pays super close attention during meetings normally. But he pays substantially less attention than usual this time, which means a lot, because the level is already rock bottom.

“Do you have any ideas, Lancer?” Ralsei turns to ask him halfway through. “I’m sure they’re some good ones!” 

But of course he doesn’t have a single good idea when Ralsei is beaming over the rims of his glasses at him, so he just stutters, “N-no” and then tips his chair over.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Ralsei asks afterwards, laying a hand on Lancer’s arm. “You don’t look so good.”

Lancer is already sweating, but as he pats off Ralsei’s hand it’s as if his body temperature spikes another twelve hundred degrees. Ralsei’s fluffy hand is really soft, and it tickles. “I dunno. I’m all sticky and I’m hot even when the ruddins fan me.” He pays the ruddins in gem heaps for the fanning nowadays, so they have a lot of enthusiasm for it.

“It sounds like you might be getting sick!” And to Lancer’s dismay, Ralsei places a hand right on Lancer’s sweat-damp forehead. “It does feel like you have a little fever. Why don’t you go rest for awhile? I’ll bring you some soup.”

But even after Lancer has a nice beauty nap cuddled up with his bike and osmoses all of the delicious milky pumpkin soup Ralsei makes for him--a special Darkner royal recipe!--Lancer feels worse, not better.

“It’s okay if you need to rest some more,” Ralsei assures him. “I can handle things with the other kings so you don’t have to worry.”

Lancer generally does not worry, but Ralsei thinking he worries makes him want to actually worry, even if that kind of wrenches his brain into a pretzel. “Thanks. You’re the best little piece of dark candy ever.”

Ralsei giggles. He has the sweetest little giggle, like the tinkling of an adorable xylophone. “Aww. I’ll make you more soup later! You have to feel better for when Susie and Kris come back to visit!”

Susie makes regular near-daily visits to the Dark World, sometimes accompanied by Kris, sometimes not. Kris has been a lot more quiet since the first time he met them, and their face doesn’t move much, but they still seem mostly happy to be there. Ralsei thinks maybe the stress of the first visit made them more talkative than normal.

But it’s just Susie this time, shouldering her axe with enthusiasm. Susie loves having the axe around even it she chooses not to use it anymore. Mostly.

“Susie,” Lancer says, “you’re my best friend in the whole world and also the coolest person of all time, so when I die I want you to take over my share of the kingdom.”

Susie is taken aback. “Where’s this coming from, man?”

“Oh, well, I’m sick so it could happen soon. You never know.”

Susie stares at him, round-eyed and baring her fangs in surprise. Lancer shrugs and pokes out his tongue. “What have you got?”

“Don’t know but I think it’s bad.”

“Should you see a doctor or something? Do you even have doctors down here? What’s wrong with you, exactly?”

Lancer rests his chin on his hand. “Well, lately I’ve been getting really hot and sweaty and my heart beats too fast. And I get dizzy.”

“Is it all the time? Is it happening now?”

Lancer ponders. “Actually, no, but--”

“Susie! It’s so good to see you!” chirps Ralsei as he ascends the stairs to the roof. “How is the Lightner world?”

“Sucks ass as per usual.” Susie gives her axe a swing. “Little less than it used to, I guess.”

“I’m glad things are better for you!” Ralsei smiles. “I’ve been doing more research into what the next step of the prophecy might be--”

“No rush, man.” Susie still cares about the prophecy about as much as the gum on her shoes, which is not at all.

“But while you’re here, would you like some soup? I made some for Lancer since he’s feeling a bit under the weather!”

“Sure. I’ll take it.” Susie will eat most of the soup, but she’s Lancer’s extremely cool best friend, so he’ll accept it. Ralsei adorably skips off back to wherever he’s making the soup. The kitchen? Does Lancer’s castle even have a kitchen? He’s literally never seen it in his life. This is why they need Ralsei.

“Nooo, Susie, it’s back!” Lancer counts his trembling pulse. “Look, I’m all nasty again! Every time I start to feel better, Ralsei comes back and I--” 

He’s struck by a sudden realization. “Wait. It only happens when Ralsei’s around. Maybe I’m allergic to his sweet, precious fluff! I can’t be allergic to my own royal advisor!”

Susie drags a hand down her face. “OH MY GOD, LANCER. YOU’RE NOT SICK OR ALLERGIC TO ANYTHING. YOU JUST HAVE A CRUSH. ON TOOTHPASTE BOY.”

“Oh. Is that what that is?” Lancer shrugs to himself. “I don’t like it. It feels bad.”

“Yeah, that’s the way of life, man. Love sucks.”

Lancer’s tongue flicks anxiously. “How do I get rid of it?”

“You don’t. I mean, you can wait and it’ll go away on its own, I guess. Just spend less time around him if you have to. Avoiding people almost always works. And if he won’t go away you can just hit him.” She pulls a face. “Okay, maybe don’t hit him. But you  _ can  _ avoid him.”

“But I can’t just wait for it to go away! We run the kingdom together! If I leave, I’m abandoning my post as king, and if he leaves, the kingdom will fall apart because he’s the only one who actually does important jobs around here!”

“O-kay. Well, guess you’ll just have to ask him out on a date then.”

Lancer wrings his hands. “You think so?”

“Yeah, that’s what I think.” Susie is headed towards the stairs. She must be getting hungry.

“Susie! Wait!” Lancer scurries after her. “How? How am I supposed to do it! I need advice from a cool person!”

Susie whirls on him. “Advice? You don’t need ADVICE, my man. You ride a motorcycle. That automatically adds like fifteen hundred points to both your coolness AND attractiveness meters.”

It’s not a real motorcycle, just a pedal bike with a flaming spoiler he attached for the aesthetic, but he doesn’t have the heart to correct her. “Really? You think so?” Susie wears leather jackets and is by far the coolest person Lancer knows. Lesser Dad is the only other person who even makes the rankings, and he’s a really distant second. Her approval tickles him with delight.

“Yeah, man. Just ask him to go for a ride with you sometime. Then you’ll have to sit right next to each other and have like. Full body contact and shit.”

“ _ What _ ,” says Lancer, breaking into an immediate full body panic. 

“If you’re not monster enough to do it yourself, I’ll do it for you. Hey  _ Ralsei _ !” she shouts, breaking into a sprint. “Wait up! Lancer has something to say to you!”

“Susie, wait, don’t do it! Don’t do it!” But since Susie’s stride is about three times as long as his, there’s no way he can catch up to her in time. 

By the time he rolls, heaving for air, into an unknown room occupied by Susie, Ralsei, and a steaming pot of soup, he’s way too out of breath to protest when Susie says, “Lancer wants to take you out for a ride on his bike sometime. And by sometime I mean right now.”

Ralsei pauses in the middle of stirring the soup. “Oh, okay. That sounds nice. Where do you want to go, Lancer?”

Lancer racks his brain for things cute boys might like. “Um. The bake sale?”

Ralsei frowns, and Lancer’s heart is squashed flat as a pancake. “But I’m going to make another cake for Susie! Do you mind waiting? Then you can have as much baked goods as you want.”

“CAKES! CAKES! CAKES!” Susie chants, immediately forgetting the mission.

“But I, uhhhh, want to support my subjects in their financial enterprises! Economics and numbers and stuff!” says Lancer. There. Nailed it.

“Well, it’s nice to see you taking an active role in the finer aspects of governing. We can go after I finish the soup and put the cake in the oven. Do you want to come with us, Susie?”

Lancer shoots Susie a desperate look. “Oh, nah, I’m good. I’ll just stay here and watch this cake. Both eyes.”

Lancer takes in their unfamiliar surroundings. “Is this the kitchen?”

“Yes?” says Ralsei with concern and confusion.

“Has it been here the entire time?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh. That’s neat.” Learn something new every day.

Susie stays behind to stare the cake into submission as promised, so it’s just Lancer and Ralsei walking down to the front of the castle, Lancer carrying his bike across his shoulders after he so rudely had to wake it up from its rest. He hopes it doesn’t mind.

“You know, Lancer, you’re pretty strong!” says Ralsei.

“Yeah, I can lift ten times my body weight. I’m like a bug.” Lancer flexes the bike up and down in the hopes Ralsei likes strong guys. 

As Susie promised, there is in fact full-body contact on the back of the bike. Ralsei laces his hands across Lancer’s stomach so he doesn’t fall off. Lancer tries not to crash the bike into multiple trees with middling success.

“Let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable!” says Ralsei above the roar of the spoiler. Why did he install that thing again? Sure, it looks DOPE, but it’s too noisy to hear cute boys’ conversation. 

“No, it’s fine!” he mutters.

They putter along, the only noise the squeal of distant ponmen and chirp and flap of dark birds, and of course the screech of the spoiler. He doesn’t know much about dates, but he does think there’s supposed to be some kind of conversation or something. Maybe he should ask Ralsei a question about his likes and interests?

“Hey, why do you wear the hat all the time?” 

Even as he asks it aloud, Lancer realizes he knows the answer--it’s because Ralsei is so pretty that if he went about his daily life with everyone able to see his face, he wouldn’t be able to get anything done, because people would be staring at him, awestruck, all the time. “Wait, nevermind. If I looked like you I’d wear a hat all the time too,” he says comfortingly.

“I thought you said you were going to stop making fun of me!” Ralsei snips.

Yikes. Where did Lancer go wrong? “No, I just meant that your good looks must be distracting to people--”

“I didn’t mean make fun of me harder!” Ralsei is flushed and making a scrunched-up face when they pull up to the bake sale. 

The bake sale has expanded since the restoration of the four king’s peaceful rule. Now there are fifteen different kinds of donuts, and they rotate the flavors every day. They even hired new extra staff to help with all the orders.

It’s a spider in a frilly apron managing the booth today. “Something I can help you boys with?”

“Yeah, we’d like, um, whatever he wants.” Lancer points at Ralsei.

Ralsei examines the pocket of his robe for change. A few books, a keychain with a fuzzy pink keyring and several loose coins tumble out with a clink. “Oops!” 

Lancer bends down to help him, all nice and thoughtful-like, and they accidentally touch hands when Lancer hands him his book back. Score! “Um, do you want to share one, since we’re having cake later?” asks Ralsei, cheeks glowing rosy in the shadow of his hat brim.

“Yeah! I’ll pay. And I’ll let you suck all the blood out of it, and I’ll eat the plain skin.” Everyone knows the blood is the best part.

“Why don’t you take the blood? I know you like it a lot.” Ralsei looks a little queasy at the thought. To each his own incorrect opinion. Lancer shrugs and accepts the delicious blood jelly. It’s raspberry flavor today. 

This is the part where Kris would tell him to break in with some smooth lines. “H-hey Ralsei?” He mops some of the sweat from his forehead and recalls one of Kris’s that did the trick on some lonely hathys. “Uhhhh. Did you know… I was hoping maybe you could help me out ‘cause… I got all these forks and knives but… I need a spoon. A little spoon.” It seems important that the spoon is little, for some reason.

“I bet the donut stand has spoons if you want one, Lancer,” says Ralsei. “I’ll get you one, I’m getting up to find napkins anyway.”

How did that not work? It always works for Kris! In an effort to calm his frazzled nerves, Lancer shoves the rest of his donut in his face, then realizes half a second later that they’re supposed to be sharing it.

“Oh. You ate the whole thing,” says Ralsei with disappointment, holding out a plastic spoon for Lancer.

Is it too late to spit it out? Of  _ course  _ it’s too late to spit it out, he can’t just go and hand the most adorable peanut blossom in the entire kingdom a lump of disgusting half-chewed donut. “Um. I’ll buy you another one! Sorry!”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t very hungry anyway.” Ralsei folds up the napkins and stores them in one of his many pockets with the books. “Should we go back?”

“Sure, I guess.” Lancer really wiffed this one. Like, SUPER wiffed. He’s so bummed out the bike swerves loosely back and forth across the road, cutting into a chill breeze.

“Kinda cold, isn’t it?” Lancer chuckles nervously to himself. Ralsei’s never gonna talk to him again after this. Stupid of him to think he could not be super weird for like ten minutes.

“It is chilly today. Here, I’ll let you borrow some of my scarf.” And Ralsei loops half his scarf over Lancer’s head and wiggles closer.

He’s changed his mind! This was a great idea! This was the best idea of all time! Susie really is the forefront expert on dating and romance advice!

He’s so distracted he swerves and rams right into an ornamental pillar.

They extract themselves from a nearby shrub with only light bumps and bruises, which Ralsei heals immediately, but the bike is crumpled. Lancer, dejected, has to carry its bent remains on his back the rest of the trip back. Ralsei won’t stop apologizing repeatedly, even though the only thing he’s guilty of is being cute as a buttered biscuit. 

Instead of coming with Ralsei for cake, Lancer goes upstairs to tuck in his poor bike. It needs the rest.

“Soooo, how’d it go?” Susie asks knowingly when she comes to find him later, half the cake clenched in her claws.

Lancer presses his face into his hands. “Susie I messed it all up! It was a disaster! A catastrophe! A cataclysm!!!”

“Come on, it can’t have been that bad,” says Susie around a mouthful of frosting.

“He thought I was mocking his face, neither of us understood my pickup line, I accidentally ate the donut I bought for him, and then I crashed the bike.”

Susie’s eyes grow huge. “Okay. I take it back, that is pretty bad. You know what? I was wrong. You’re still a cool guy,” she assures at Lancer’s crushed face, “but maybe you do need some advice. From someone who isn’t me. I don’t know shit about relationship stuff. Who do people usually talk to? Their parents?”

“I don’t wanna talk to my dad. He’s mean and he’s also still mad at me for usurping him.” Their last conversation in the dungeon had gone so badly he hasn’t been back down to visit again, though he does make sure his father has plenty of moss to eat. “And he’d never approve of me dating Ralsei anyway. He’s a bad influence on me.”

The thought of Dr. Toothpaste, four-eyes extraordinaire, being a bad influence on anybody is way too much for Susie. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, your dad sucks ass. But I meant that other guy. The one with the crappy puzzles that talks like he’s in a low-budget old timey movie.”

Lancer brightens. “Of course! Lesser Dad! Lesser Dad takes care of me and gives me worms when I cry! Plus, he’s really popular and has tons of admirers! I bet he knows all sorts of things about love.”

Rouxls Kaard is in the middle of a puzzle blueprint (for a button that says, “push here,” the most deliciously devious puzzle ever invented) when his favorite nuisance and best friend push their way into the door of his shop. He scowls as he yanks down his headphones. “Why’st dost thou bothere me in the middle of the day? Thoust knowest I have just woken up.”

“Hi, Lesser Dad!” Lancer beams. “We’ve come to ask you for advice!”

“I shoulde have figured,” he sighs, slumping even further onto the floor. “What requireth mine assistance, yon little water-beetle? Doth thou hungere for worms?”

“Hmm. I would like a worm snack, but we’re not here for that. I want to know how to make a boy like me!”

Rouxls tosses his hair with a smirk. “Ah, thou’st worms squiggle to mineself, a learned expert, for adviceth on matters of the heart? ‘Tis the greatest puzzle in all the worlde, is love.”

“Can you help us, Lesser Dad? What do you do when you’re in my situation?”

“Fools!” says Rouxls, raising his arms. “I am never in your situation. I do not wantest boys to  _ like _ me! ‘Tis but a pitiful imitation of true passion! I wantest boys to grovel helplessly at mine feet. I wantest them to beg for my mercy.”

“O- _ kay _ ,” says Susie slowly, with a sideways glance at Lancer.

“Here is mine advice to thou, little water-beetle: trap him in a brilliant puzzle of thoust own devising, then watch him struggle in vain to solve it, taunting him from a distance all the while! Make him toil in your name!  _ Make him crawl for you _ .”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhh,” says Lancer. “Well, first, there’s no way I could ever trap Ralsei in any kind of puzzle because he’s way smarter than me. He’s a smart genius.”

“This is true,” says Rouxls, tapping a finger to his chin. “But I couldst devise it for thou.”

“But I don’t think I really want him to, uh, crawl for me. Mostly I want him to hold my hand and nuzzle my face with his cute fluffy snout.”

“Then I cannot adviseth thee on such… vanilla matters.” Rouxls shudders. “Best of luck to thou, younge one, but thy will find no further advice from mineself.”

“Well that’s a bust,” says Susie, kicking at the floor on their way back to Lancer’s room. “But there’s gotta be somebody, somewhere in this damn castle who knows something about dating. We just have to ask around until we find them.”

“You’re right! I’m the king!” Lancer scurries back upstairs for his bike. The blacksmith can beat it right back into shape. “One of my royal subjects has got to know!”

But he’s wrong. He’s so, so wrong.


	2. The Greatest Puzzle in All the Worlde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with Fluffy Boys 2: Electric Boogaloo!
> 
> Thanks so much for the responses, the power of your nice comments shines within me!!

“You were so wise to come to us, Your Majesty,” purrs Mr. Society in full-on court sycophant mode. “We do give very thoughtful advice, if it’s not too presumptuous to say so myself.”

“Who is it, darling? Let me get a better look at you with my nostrils.” Mr. Elegance points said nostrils towards Lancer. “Oh, look, sugar, it’s the king!”

“That’s why I said Your Majesty, darling.” Mr. Society pats Mr. Elegance’s spikes.

“No, Your Majesty is my dad,” says Lancer. “You can call me by my name, because I’m a cool king.”

“What can we advise Your--ahem, on what subject may we advise our cool king this very fine evening?”

“We-ell… um… um…” Lancer twiddles his fingers together until an impatient Susie bonks his shoulder with her elbow. “I came to ask you about boys!” Mr. Elegance and Mr. Society are in love and live together and hold hands and probably even smooch sometimes. Presumably, at one point, at least one of them must have talked to the other one to make it start happening.

“Ah, the noble topic of romance,” sighs Mr. Elegance.

“Is there a young man of the court who’s caught our king’s eye?” says Mr. Society, twisting his arms together.

Susie bonks Lancer again, but when he isn’t forthcoming, grunts and says, “Yeah, it’s Ralsei. You know him. This high,” she gestures with a hand, “giant nerd, bakes cakes.”

“Of course we know young master Ralsei, your most dependable royal advisor!” says Mr. Society.

“Your Maj--um, our cool king has excellent taste.”

Susie makes a gagging motion behind her hand. “Are they always like this?” she whispers.

“So you want advice on how to woo him?” Mr. Society leans in.

“Um… yes? If you have any wooing tips, that’d be great. I want to have what you guys have.”

Misters Society and Elegance exchange a fond look, or what one assumes would be, if Mr. Society had a face.

“To impress a young man,” says Mr. Society, “you need to show him you have an appetite for the finer things in life.”

Lancer nods sagely. “My best splat MP3s and some hole salsa. Got it.”

Mister Society gives him the most withering glare one can give one’s own monarch. “Your Majesty, if I may… young master Ralsei is a very refined young gentleman. With discerning tastes.”

Lancer strokes his chin. “Okay, the salsa from the stump orifice, not just salsa from any old hole.”

“Perhaps not salsa from  _ any  _ hole, is what my dear Mr. Society is getting at,” says Mr. Elegance slowly. “When Mr. Society first asked to court me, he showed me the most fantastic time on our first date. Fine dining! Candlelight! Ambiance! Live music! An evening of taste and class. I think our Ralsei is more than deserving of something like that, don’t you, Your Majesty?”

Lancer’s going to let the Your Majesty thing, slide since the advice is just so good. “Oh, absolutely. That sweet bagel deserves everything good in the world.”

“You give lovely advice, darling,” says Mr. Society, brushing an arm over Mr. Elegance’s spines. Mr. Elegance chuckles. This is exactly why Lancer came to them first--if Ralsei ever does that to him, he’ll probably take massive damage points and die, but it’ll be worth it.

“Thanks for your help, Mister and Mister!” he calls and waves as he and Susie turn back towards the castle. “You’re my favorite pieces! But don’t tell the others that, I don’t want to hurt their feelings!”

He looks up at Susie. “Susie? What’s fancy stuff?”

Susie throws up her hands. “How the hell am I supposed to know, dude? I’m big, mean, and I hit stuff with axes. That’s what I know about. Just make him dinner and light some candles. He loses his damn mind every time somebody does something even kind of nice for him.”

Lancer has no idea how to cook and he had no idea where the kitchen in the castle even was until the day previous, but that’s definitely not going to cause any problems at all. He prepares his favorite dinner, which is three glasses of milk, but since this is an extra refined and fancy occasion, he pours an extra two for each of them for dessert. And it’s the good kind of milk, too, the one with the smiling checker pieces on the label. But he runs out of glasses, so he has to get the plastic cups and a couple of the mugs down too.

Rouxl Kaard saunters into the kitchen just as he pours the seventh glass, humming to himself. “Doth mine eyes deceiveth me?” Rouxls claps his hands to his cheeks. “Younge water-beetle, in yonder fine domaine of the kitchen? I never thougheth I would see the day.”

“Hi, Lesser Dad! I’m making a fancy dinner. Do you know where the candles are?” His dad had always hid the candles and the lighter, in a general attempt to discourage Lancer from lighting more things on fire. It didn’t work, but it was making it way more difficult to generate ambiance. 

Rouxls scowls. “Oh, no. If thou thinkest I am going to allowe you to doth lighte the entire castle aflame again, thou art most incorrect.”

Lancer pouts, clasping his hands together. “But I gotta make it fancy! For Ralsei!”

“Ah, thou still pursueth yonder fluffy lad?” Rouxls sighs deeply, rubbing his temple. “All right. If it be for thine moste admirable purpose of romance, I wilst allow thou to possesse the flame.” Lancer cheers in delight. “But only for tonighte,” says Rouxls, wagging a finger. “Doth I make mineself clear?”

“Sure, Lesser Dad! You’re the best dad, so I should really be promoting you to Greater Dad.”

Rouxls tries his hardest not to look pleased. “And might I suggest thou addst a side dishe to yon delightful meal? Perhaps a nice worme or two to accompany the milk.” He tries even harder not to smile when Lancer gives him a huge, enthusiastic hug. Luckily, his expression returns easily and naturally to disgust when he sees Lancer setting up a recorder with his favorite splat MP3s, and swaps it out for something more tasteful instead.

When Ralsei arrives at the kitchen, there’s a wriggling plate of worms and two candle stumps burning alongside the glasses and cups and mugs full of milk. “Oh, hi, Lancer! I didn’t expect to see you here.” He smiles his sweet, gentle smile, and Lancer’s heart flips like a flapjack. “How are you feeling?”

The answer is not great, but Lancer’s shaking knees are hidden behind the table. “I’m just stupendous, and look, I made us dinner!” He gestures to the milk. Maybe he should have gotten some more glasses so they were all symmetrical? Nah, the varying shapes just add to the charm.

“Oh, you did?” Ralsei blushes. “That’s so nice! You didn’t have to do that. But, um--” He wrings the end of his scarf. “Lancer, um…”

Even Lancer’s surprised at how fast this is going wrong. He’s going to lap his previous record. “What’s the matter, little pumpkin?”

“I can’t have milk.” Ralsei says. “I’m lactose intolerant.” Lancer’s face falls. “It’s okay!” Ralsei assures him. “You didn’t know. And ten glasses of milk is not a terribly nutritious dinner, anyway.”

Well, count Ralsei thoroughly unimpressed. “I’ll just make us something,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “We can snack on the worms while I work.”

“No, Ralsei, wait--” Lancer protests. Ralsei can’t cook his own fancy dinner. It’s just not right.

“The candles are really nice, but maybe we should put them out so we don’t knock them over? I don’t want anything to catch on fire.”

Dejectedly, Lancer extinguishes the candles, then holds the bowl while Ralsei makes pancakes and scrambled eggs without milk. Well, flip his flapjacks and his heart, this went nothing as planned. “What are you listening to?” Ralsei asks, snout crinkling with curiosity as he glances at the MP3 player, currently spitting out Rouxls’s favorite lo-fi mood jams.

“Um… dad music?” Lancer shrugs.

“I didn’t know you liked this kind of thing,” says Ralsei.

He doesn’t. It’s terrible. This is all terrible. He needs to get some fancy food immediately.

He knows of exactly one chef in Card Kingdom. Luckily, that chef is the best chef, which is why his name is Topchef. The next morning, when Susie’s spending the whole day back in the Lightner world, he takes Bike out to the fields to ask for something delicious and fancy.

And just his luck, Clover’s on the way. In fact, blocking the way, in the middle of trying to solve a puzzle to get rid of the spikes in the road, but that’s just a perfect opportunity. Clover likes boys AND has three heads, which have to be better than one. “Hi, Clover!” He honks his bike horn at her.

“Well, if it isn’t the king!” beams the first head. “Worse than the last one, if you ask me,” snaps the middle head. “Hi, Lancer,” says the third.

“Having trouble with the puzzle? That’s okay. I always have trouble with puzzles.” He hops off Bike. “Hey, while you’re working, want to talk about boys?” Boys are one of Clover’s favorite topics of conversation. All three heads even like it.

“Of course!” “Ugh, fine.” “I guess.”

“What kind of boys do you like?”

“Fluffy! Glasses!” All three heads exclaim in unison. 

“Really?” Lancer leans back to look up at them. “You’ve got great taste! We like the same kinds of boys! You’re the perfect person--uh, people?” He glances at her? Them? For confirmation.

“Yeah, we’re not really clear on that either,” Left Head says. “Either’s fine,” says Right Head.

“Then you’re the perfect person to give me advice! What do you do when you want to show a nice fluffy bespectacled boy that you like him?”

“Well, it’s easy!” say all three heads, and then begin talking over one another.

“Boys like it when you’re nice to them. So, so nice!” says Left Head in singsong. “Forget being nice! What boys really like is when you’re MEAN to them,” Middle Head snaps.  “I don’t give good advice. You should do whatever they say, I guess,” says Right Head, settling herself down on the ground.

Lancer sits down on the grass. “That’s kind of conflicting advice. And I don’t think Ralsei likes it much when I’m mean to him.”

“Hah! That’s what boys  _ say _ . But they secretly really like it when you make fun of them, and sometimes do something nice for them, but then say stuff like ‘It’s not because I like you or anything, baka,’ and then ignore them for awhile,” says Middle Head. 

“Huh. Do you really think so?” Lancer frowns. Making fun of Ralsei has definitely never gone over well before. It’s pretty much the only time he ever gets upset.

“I  _ know _ so, baka,” Middle Head insists. “No, that’s not right at all,” Left Head protests. “I don’t really know what they’re talking about,” says Right Head with a little shrug of her neck as she finishes the puzzle for the other two. The spikes retreat back into the road with a loud click.

“Um, okay! Well, thanks for the advice, even if I’m even more confused now than before!” Lancer brushes grass off his knees and hops back on Bike. “See you later!”

“Good luck!” calls Left Head with a huge smile. “But don’t even think about stealing him from us!” Middle Head shouts. “I could use a nap,” mutters Right Head to herself.

He’s still thinking it over when he arrives at the clearing where Topchef does what he does, which is leaking a tower of smoke as tall as Ralsei’s darkness pillar. Maybe his dads were right about the dangers of the flame. After all, he just got here and somehow the place is already on fire. “Mama miba! Mama shiba!” Topchef shrieks, spinning in terror.

“It’s okay, Mr. Chef. I have my bucket. See?” Lancer pulls out said bucket, which is useful for both putting out fires as well as cleaning up bloody messes. It takes a couple of bike trips to and from the nearest fountain, but soon there’s only smoke and smoldering ruins, and no fire.

“Oh, my oven, my kitchen! Mama piba!” Topchef is spinning wildly in distress. “Thank you for your help, little king, but I cannot cook anything for you in this disgraceful state!”

Filled with disappointment, Lancer is about to bike off in search of other ideas, when a figure in a long trenchcoat in the shadow of the nearest tree scuttles closer. “Psst. Hey. Hey, kid,” the puzzle piece whispers. “Wanna buy a tutorial? We got Kris tutorials, Susie tutorials, Ralsei tutorials--”

That last one sure catches Lancer’s attention. “Do I!” he exclaims. “That’s just what I need! But hey… step on my boots, aren’t you one of the jigsawrys my dad forced to do tutorials? I thought you were back to being puzzle guys now.”

The pink jigsawry rubs at his stubble, somehow, even though he doesn’t have any kind of appendage to do it with. “People still want to buy tutorials, and the business marches on, kid. I mean, uh, Your Highness. I mean, uh, Your Majesty. I mean, uh, you’re a cool king so I can call you by your name--”

“Kid is fine,” Lancer offers. “I don’t mind.”

“Anyways, kid, there’s still a demand for the tutorials, see? So we take turns running the money hole. What’s it gonna be for ya?”

“One Ralsei tutorial for me, please!” Lancer drops a dark dollar in the money hole at the jigsawry’s direction. The hole is so dark and deep it’s impossible to see the bottom. He wonders how they get the money out.

“Right this way, kiddo.” The jigsawry shucks off his trenchcoat and puts on a green hat. “I’m on Ralsei Master duty today. Ask me about Ralsei’s.”

Lancer clasps his hands. “What can I do to make Ralsei like me back?”

The tutorial guy clears his throat. “Ralsei loves when you give us money. He will hug you, and call you honey.”

Lancer sticks his tongue out in confusion. “But I don’t need money for that. He does that all the time already.” Ever since Ralsei saw how much it delighted both Kris and the Darkners, Ralsei has been peppering calling people honey into normal conversation. It’s great because Ralsei calls Lancer honey, but it’s also not great because it gives Lancer heart palpitations.

“Oh! Well… um… in order to use battle turns efficiently… have you considered setting him up to SPARE on the same turn you ACT--”

“I don’t know what any of those words mean!” Lancer picks Bike back up with a sigh. “Sorry, Mr. Tutorial Man, I just don’t think you’re catering to my specific needs!”

“Wait!” The trenchcoat’s back on. “I think I’m getting you. What you need… is our secret… Love Tutorial.” He drops his voice to a whisper. “Extra special. Super exclusive. Only available bimonthly. Only forty dark dollars. What do you say?”

“Hmmmm… is this just an evil scheme so you can buy delicious treats?” The jigsawry can’t hide his guilty expression, but Lancer just grins and sticks out his tongue. “I like it! I may be retired from the evildoing business and a full-time round and soft boy now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t support my subjects in some nice skullduggery now and then.” He drops the requisite forty dark dollars in the hole. “Here’s your money!”

“Wow.  That’s… I was just going to make something up but that’s so nice I feel like I have to come up with real advice for you now.” Look at that, defeating them with kindness. Lancer wishes Ralsei were here so Ralsei could be proud of him. “Look, I’ll tell you what I do. I like to take guys out to that clubs party that goes on at the Card Castle. You know it?”

“‘Course I do. I fall asleep to clubs party every night.” And the clubs is even more thumping now that Clubs King is out of the dungeon and spinning new mixes. It’s so relaxing.

“Uh, to each his own, I guess. Why don’t you invite him to go there with you. Have some juice, dance a little. See what happens.” The jigsawry shrugs. “Time’s up. I can keep going, but that’ll be another forty dollars.”

  
  


When Lancer returns to the castle, Ralsei is in the kitchen with none other than Lancer’s super best friend forever for all time, who is once again chanting “Cakes! Cakes! Cakes!” as she devours a cake with both hands. Ralsei delicately pokes at his with a fork.

“Oh, there’s Lancer!” He waves his fork.  “Where have you been all day?”

Lancer’s body temperature spikes to volcanic level. “Um. Definitely not doing anything at all, ever! But what I did earlier doesn’t matter, you adorable little parsnip, it’s what I’m doing now that counts, which is going to clubs party! You should come also to clubs party! Which is where I am going!”

Ralsei tilts his head. “I’ve never been to clubs party before. That sounds like it might be fun! Um, I have to do the dishes first, though.”

“I’ll help you!” Lancer thrusts his hands into the sink, splattering water everywhere.

Susie pushes her bangs up just so she can give Lancer an exaggerated wink. Lancer pulls a dripping hand out of the sink to give her a thumbs-up. Ralsei hums to himself and appears not to notice. “Don’t wait for me, dudes,” Susie says through the half a cake in her mouth. “I’ll just be spending quality times with these delicious cakes. Maybe I’ll catch up with you later.”

“You enjoy those cakes, Susie!” Ralsei calls over his shoulder as he follows Lancer up the castle stairwell towards the thump and bump of clubs room.

The clubs is already packed full of hathys thrashing their tentacles and ruddins shaking their gems. Even Clover is there, necks twisting and twining around each other in time with the beat. Clubs King salutes at the both of them from his position from behind the DJ table, where he is in the midst of dropping the bass. 

Lancer falls asleep to the clubs music coming up through the floor every day. The familiar throbbing beat is soothing. He heaves a deep breath and tries to absorb it into his body for courage.

Beside him, Ralsei’s mouth moves, but he can’t hear any of it over the screech of synthesized grooves. “What?” he asks. Ralsei talks again, soundlessly. “WHAT?” Ralsei tries once more, growing increasingly distressed. “SORRY, WHAAAAAAAT?”

Ralsei motions for him to come closer, then leans down to speak so close to Lancer’s face that his fuzzy ears tickle Lancer’s cheek. Lancer is grateful it’s so dark and strobe-y in the clubs, or Ralsei would be able to see his face turn the color of a sweet little cherry tomato, which incidentally is what Ralsei is. “I WAS JUST SAYING, WHAT SHOULD WE DO?”

“DO YOU WANT JUICE?” Lancer offers, then again five more times until Ralsei finally hears him. Ralsei nods, so Lancer returns with two cups of mango juice from the drinks table.

They stand there sipping and shuffle backwards to avoid getting slapped by stray hathy tentacles. “DO YOU WANNA DANCE?” Lancer shouts. 

Ralsei leans in once more, yanking his scarf down so Lancer can see his lips moving. “I CAN’T DANCE WITH MY JUICE OR I MIGHT SPILL IT ON MY ROBE,” he protests.

“OH. OKAY,” says Lancer, and they keep standing there sipping their juice, not dancing and not talking either because talking is set at max difficulty level. The juice and the music are making Lancer sleepy. He’s not sure he’s getting the appeal of the clubs. 

Ralsei finishes his juice. “DO YOU WANNA DANCE NOW?” Lancer calls.

Ralsei yanks his scarf back up over his blushing cheeks. “OKAY, BUT I’VE NEVER DANCED AROUND OTHER PEOPLE BEFORE AND I’M SELF-CONSCIOUS, SO PLEASE DON’T MAKE FUN OF ME!”

“I WON’T, YOU DELIGHTFUL LITTLE  MUSHROOM,” says Lancer as they struggle to find an empty space on the floor. 

Ralsei holds an arm over his waist and sketches an elegant bow. Lancer bobs his head in return. Ralsei may never have danced around people before, but he’s clearly practiced dancing before on his own, if his delicate turns and spins that leave his scarf twirling behind him are any indication. Lancer, who has never danced at all except for occasional wiggling to some really good splats, is struggling to keep up.

He’s never gonna get to do a romantic dance with Ralsei at this rate. Maybe if he bounces some more, and wriggles just a little bit closer, they can do what the hathys next to them are up to, which is some kind of thing where you grasp hands and both pull backwards. It looks fun. And it has hand-holding.

He points enthusiastically at the hathys, trying to communicate the message to Ralsei, only Ralsei doesn’t understand him and then the hathys don’t seem to like that he’s pointing, so he has to waste a whole minute screaming an apology at them before holding out out his hands to Ralsei and bobbing up and down. Ralsei finally appears to get the idea. Then Ralsei puts his hands in his hands! And closes them! Their fingers are touching! They are holding hands! That tutorial guy deserves a tip! A bonus! A promotion!

It’s all a great and fun time until, not quite on the beat and spending most of his mental faculties on the brush of Ralsei’s fingers, and with a dance partner who really has never danced with other people before and doesn’t quite know how to navigate physical space, Lancer dodges in the wrong direction when Ralsei almost whacks him with one of his floofy elbows, and then steps right on Ralsei’s foot. Ralsei squeals in surprise, scarf coming loose.

“ARE YOU OKAY?” Lancer asks, holding out a hand towards Ralsei, who’s winding his scarf back around his neck. Ralsei nods. “DO YOU WANNA STOP?”

“WHAAAAAAAT?”

“I SAID, DO YOU WANNA STAAAAAHHHP?”

“LET’S GO OUTSIDE SO WE CAN UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER,” Ralsei suggests. Lancer, slumped forward in disappointment, follows him outside to the hallway.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I’m really sorry I stepped on your cute little foot.” He recalls Clover’s advice. “B-but not sorry because I  _ like _ you or anything, baka!”

“Huh?” Ralsei blinks, ducking back into his scarf. “But I thought you did like me? Aren’t we friends now?”

Clover’s middle head does not deserve an advice-giving promotion, because the droopy expression on Ralsei’s face is giving Lancer physical damage points. “O-of course I like you! You’re my favorite delicious little pear. I just--just feel bad because I ruined your very good and graceful dancing, specifically!”

“Oh. Okay.” Ralsei is confused, but less droopy.

Lancer rubs the back of his hood. “I’m sorry I’ve been extra weird lately, Ralsei. Even more extra weird than usual.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Lancer!” Ralsei pats his shoulder, taking off another few damage points and leaving Lancer’s hitpoint total dangerously low. “I think I know what’s going on!”

“Y-you do?” Lancer is a single hitpoint away from death. 

“Of course! I think you must still be feeling under the weather. I bet you just need to lie down for a little bit and then I’m sure you’ll feel right as rain again!” Ralsei clasps his hands together. “Is that right?”

“I’m--I’m not… that’s…” Lancer admits defeat. “Yeah. That’s exactly it.” 

He lets Ralsei tuck him into bed beside Bike with a cheery good night. And then immediately sneaks downstairs to find Susie and complain to her about the grand total of zero scot-free victories for the Love Squad.

“Hey, dude, it’s going to be okay.” Susie awkwardly pats Lancer’s shoulder. “I got another idea. I think it’s time we bring Kris in on this. They’re smooth as hell. And we have like a bunch of people in our hometown who are all touchy-feely and shit. We can ask them for some advice.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?” Lancer’s practically sparkling. “I wish there was a rank above super best friend forever for all time, because you deserve it, Susie! Wait, I can make one! You’re now my super best friend forever for all time until the end of eternity.”

“Kind of a mouthful, dude. Best friend is fine.” She pats his shoulder again at his disappointed expression. “Just you wait. I’m gonna come back with so much quality Lightner advice, it’s gonna blow your damn mind.”

  
  


“Kris, you were so right. This church juice is banging.” Susie takes a long swing of the forbidden drink. She doesn’t know how Kris got it and she isn’t going to ask. They’re hanging out behind the school, dangling their feet in Shady Creek, which is so named both because it’s literally shady and it’s also where the youths come to do weeds or whatever. 

Susie doesn’t know what the hell is up with Kris. They went right back to their usual silent treatment after their adventure through the dark world, and they don’t seem much interested in telling her why. But the two of them still ditch school to sit around together and Kris listens to her talk and she doesn’t slam them into lockers, so they’re still tight, sort of. And god knows Susie understands not wanting to talk to people about shit.

Kris has been patiently listening to her explain Lancer’s predicament while they sip their banging juice. “So, like, I just don’t know what to do, dude.” Susie sighs. “I don’t know why I told him I could help. I just got overwhelmed by the joy of friendship or what-the-hell-ever.”

“Noelle,” says Kris flatly from behind their hair.

“Huh?” Susie falls back on her elbows in surprise. It’s shocking her every time they open their mouth, just like it used to. Maybe the reason they hardly ever talk is so everything they do say carries huge dramatic weight and shit.

“Noelle. Ask her about it.” Kris dunks the empty juice bottle in the stream and gives it a kick. It bobs away, throwing off glittering streaks of light. They pull a second one out of their sweater. 

“Huh. I mean, that’ll be easy, I guess. We’re doing the group project together now.” That left Kris paired with Berdley, a partnership both of were enduring with maximal suffering. Kris takes a long swig of juice, squinting off into the middle distance. “I guess I can talk to her when we’re working later. Ugh, never thought I’d be spending more than five seconds on a school project. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

She accepts the juice bottle from Kris. “Oh and my mom wants you to come over sometime this week,” they say, all casual-like. Susie drops the bottle in the grass and scrambles to pick it up before all the juice leaks out.

“Sorry, what the hell’d you say? I think my ear’s busted.”

“You. My mom. After school. Pie.” Kris shrugs, flopping backwards on the grass to rest their head on their arms. “She wants to meet my friend.”

Susie clutches her chest, wheezing. “GOD, DUDE! You can’t just spring shit like that on me, I think I’m having a heart attack!” The last time she was in the same room as Mrs. Toriel, Mrs. Toriel was banning her from free ham sandwich day. It’s a dark memory.

“Don’t have to if you don’t want,” Kris mumbles into their sweater sleeve. Ugh. Susie swipes juice from her mouth with the back of her hand. Well, now she’s gonna have to, or look like a total wuss in front of both Kris AND their terrifying mother. 

She’s late to her meeting with Noelle at the library and it’s actually not on purpose for once. In her defense, all her muscles are stiff with primal fear over the thought of looking Mrs. Toriel directly in the face in her own house.

“Hi, Susie!” Noelle waves from a wide desk by the window with an extra chair. “I got us the good table!”

“Sweet.” Susie drops her backpack on the floor with a thud. Noelle looks at her from across the table with her huge sparkly cartoon eyes. Not even a month ago, Susie would have totally slacked on this entire project and let Miss Hometown Homecoming do all the work for her, but now that feels like bad sportsmanship. Having standards sure does suck ass. 

“Sooooo, I already found all the books the library had on the middle kingdom period of old world monster history, to get us started!” Noelle pats a massive stack of books beside her that almost reaches over her antlers. “And I also found some movies in the media section that are depicting that time period, and so I thought… maybe… we could…” Her voice is getting smaller and smaller as her freckles disappear in a wash of red. “Maybe we could talk a little about how modern portrayals of the era have drifted from um… actual historical records at the time…”

Susie flops sideways into the empty chair. “Sure, dude. It’s whatever you want.” To be totally honest, she’d thought this was, like, a math project or something.

“Oh. Okay!” Noelle’s big cartoon eyes grow three sizes larger and filled with even more sparkles. “Before we start I just want to say, thanks for agreeing to switch partners, Susie!”

“Sure, it’s whatever,” says Susie, resisting the desire to squirm in her chair. “But I’m gonna keep it real with you, chief, I’m not great at school stuff.” Noelle knows that already. But she’s nice enough to pretend she doesn’t.

“Th-that’s okay! We can help each other.” Noelle fiddles with one of the sleeves of her sweater. It’s got twinkly little lights on it and it’s actually kind of cool, even if it could be improved by some wavy scissors. “Um, why don’t we start seeing what some of these books have got and take notes, and then show each other?”

“You’re the expert,” says Susie, plopping a big ass history book off the stack in front of her. As she cracks it open and skims its super boring contents, she wonders why the hell Kris wanted her to ask Noelle about Lancer’s love problems, specifically. Sure, Noelle has those big cartoon eyes and pretty hair that smells like nutmeg, so she probably gets flirted with constantly. And she’s also a huge sap and likes to sneak romance comics into class under her desk sometimes. But still. What makes them think she’s going to want to talk to Susie about it, of all people?

“Hey, Noelle, quick question. Uh... “

Noelle squeaks a little and whips her head up so fast her pretty hair drifts around her head like a halo. “Yes?”

Susie wrings her hands together under the table and tells herself to stop being such a damn weakass, because if she has to go back to the dark world and see Lancer’s disappointed little face again she’s gonna have to revoke her own best friend card. “Uhhh… so, I’ve got this friend, and he likes this boy, but he doesn’t know what to do about it. So I’m, uhh, going around taking a survey for him, because I don’t know shit about that kind of thing either.”

“Oh!” Noelle starts in surprise. “Oh! Okay! All right! Sure, I’m, um, happy to help you and your friend out!”

“Really?” Noelle nods emphatically. “Sweet, dude. My friend’s gonna lose his mind.”

“Right! Well, um, what I’d tell your friend is that if he knows what… the boy he likes, likes, then he can… give him some things. Um, juuuust as an example--” Noelle takes a box of chalk out of her bookbag. It’s a rainbow multicolored limited edition box. She twiddles her fingers together. “I know you like to eat chalk, soo--”

Susie slaps a hand down on the table. “You do? Who narced?” It has to be Kris. She’d wring their skinny little neck if they weren’t tight now. But she’s gonna have to give them at least a little bit of shit over it.

“Um… K-Kris did?” That traitor.

“Sorry. Go on.” Susie motions for Noelle to continue.

“Um, anyways, since I knew you liked it, I brought this just for you, so you could eat some. And that’s what your friend can do, too.” Noelle pushes the chalk across the table with trembling hands.

It really is the good stuff. Eight different flavors. Technically they all taste the same, but Susie likes to use her imagination. “Damn, Noelle. That’s really legit of you.”

“Y-you think so?” Noelle is frozen in place like… Susie hates herself for this analogy, but like a deer in some headlights. 

“Yeah. I’m gonna have some right now.” She pops a whole stick of bubblegum pink in her mouth, then pushes the box back across and says, around her full mouth, “You want some too?”

“Um, no, that’s okay! They’re all for you! H-hey, um, think we’ve worked on this long enough, don’t you!” Noelle scrambles to gather all her books to her chest.

“Huh?” Susie’s never seen Noelle Holiday skip out on schoolwork, like, ever. She’s THE goody two-hoofs of Mrs. Alphys’s class. But it’s not like Susie’s ever been paying attention, or anything. 

“Why don’t we go watch one of the educational movies instead? We can go to my house, my mom’s working late and she won’t mind. And on the way we could get, um, hot chocolate because it’s chilly outside, and, maybe you could tell me more about your friend, um…”

“Sure, alright.” Susie pushes back her chair and stretches her arms above her head. Noelle looks like she might be about to keel over. Probably should’ve had some chalk. She must be hungry. “Let’s ditch this nerd herd.” Finally, some delicious snacks and some good news for Lancer. Her best friend card is secure. And maybe she’s looking forward to hanging out with Noelle, like, just a little bit. Even if it is just for this boring ass project. 

 

 

“BIG news, man,” Susie announces as she collapses on top of Lancer’s bed. “Ouch, shit! I always forget about that thing.” She scrambles away from Bike’s pedals. “Anyway! Your super best friend is back and she’s got GREAT news for you!”

“Yeah? Yeah?” Lancer scoots to the edge of the bed from the corner, where he’s been digging a fresh hole.

“I got advice STRAIGHT from the cutest girl at my school and she gave me some chalk to eat, so how’s that going on for you?”

“You did it! And it sounds like you liiiiiike her,” says Lancer, grinning and sticking out his tongue as he rests his elbows on the edge of the bed. 

“I do not!” Susie protests.

“Susie’s got a giiiiiiirlfriend,” Lancer announces in singsong as Susie grabs the pillow and whacks him with it.

“Hey! Look who’s talking! Lancer has a booooyfriend--”

“But I  _ don’t _ have a boyfriend, Susie. That’s the whole issue.” Lancer sighs, bracing his chin in his hands. “What did the cute girl say?”

“Noelle--that’s her name, the cute girl, she’s got pretty hair and antlers and shit--she says you should figure out what Ralsei likes the best and then give him a present, and do favors for him, and other stuff he likes.”

“Hmm.” Lancer ponders in deep thought. “Ralsei likes adorable nerd things like handmade manuals and sewing and baking. I don’t know anything about that stuff.”

But then, he’s struck by a brilliant idea. “SUSIE. Who better to tell us what Ralsei wants and likes… than Ralsei?” 

“Hmm.” Susie tucks the pillow back underneath her head. “Keep talking.”

But instead, Lancer just scoops up his MP3 player and scurries down the hall. “Susie! Come on, lemme show you!”

  
  


Approximately two hours later, they’re both hiding behind a nearby pillar, keeping an eye on the posterboard Lancer’s set up in the castle entrance hall, waiting patiently for a certain fluffy boy to pass by. A couple ruddins were eying it too closely earlier, until Susie stuck her head out and bared her fangs at them.

At long last, Ralsei skips down the hall with a bag of groceries on one arm.

“Yesss!” Lancer pumps his fists. “Let the sweet little pudding-generated-content begin!!”

Ralsei, curious, pauses to examine the poster as he passes, which reads:

 

CREATE A SCENARIO TO

WIN YOUR OWN LOVE

 

PRESENTED BY LANCER ENTERPRISES

(WHICH IS NOW REINSTATED AFTER A HIATUS)

 

COPYRIGHT BY LANCER ENTERPRISES LTE

ROYAL SEAL OF APPROVAL FROM KING LANCER

 

THIS IS A SURVEY FOR

RALSEI

ONLY!

IF YOU ARE NOT RALSEI, DO NOT COMPLETE IT, OR YOU’LL BE ASSIGNED TO DUNGEON MOSS WATERING DUTY BY ORDER OF KING LANCER!!!!

 

“Wow, just for me?” Ralsei peers over the rims of his glasses at the blueprints. “Who put this here? Well, it looks kind of fun.” He cups a hand around his snout and raises his voice. “Whoever set up the cute survey! Thank you! It’s nice!”

STEP ONE. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF DATE?

  1. Chocolate dates  2. Honey dates 3. Coconut dates 4. Bacon-wrapped dates



“No, it’s supposed to be things you can do on a date, not dates like the food,” Susie hisses. 

“Sorry, I got hungry when I was doing that part!”

“I like honey dates, I guess,” says Ralsei, checking off the appropriate item. 

STEP TWO. WHAT KIND OF BOYS DO YOU LIKE?

“Hmm,” says Ralsei, scratching his cheek with the eraser end of his pencil. “I like ALL these kinds of boys! I guess I can check all the boxes, they never said that wasn’t allowed.” And he proceeds to check the boxes for “Round Boys,” “Cool Boys,” “Boys Who Ride Bikes,” and “Boys Who Are One Quarter King of the Darkners.”

“He checked ‘em all, man,” says Susie. 

“That’s me! He checked me!” Lancer squeals, then deflates. “But what if he just means it platonically? I didn’t specify that I meant like-like in the hand-holding sense!” He drags his hands down his face. “Why didn’t I specify?”

STEP THREE. HOW WOULD YOU LIKE YOUR SPECIAL BOY TO CONFESS HIS FEELINGS TO YOU? ESSAY QUESTION. PLEASE USE LEGIBLE PENMANSHIP.

That was never going to be an issue, because Ralsei’s penmanship is a flawless, elegant cursive, just as pretty as he is. He fills the page. Then he fills the back of the page. Then he gets extra sheets of paper and tapes them together to form a giant scroll, which he fills, and then the tip of his pencil snaps and he scurries off to sharpen it. Then he fills the back of the giant scroll.

He hums softly to himself as he writes. “What an entrancing song,” Lancer sighs. “He’s such a nice hummer. Don’t you--Susie?”

Susie is slumped over and snoring. “Susie! Wake up!” Lancer tugs on her sleeve. “Susie! I need you to tell me what he’s writing. I can’t see!”

Ralsei keeps humming his lovely but frustrating lullaby, so Susie remains a casualty for the entirety of the essay-writing session. When he’s finished, he neatly rolls up the scroll and places it next to the posterboard, pats it in place, then picks up his bag and heads up the stairs, still humming to himself.

Susie comes to with a snort and grunt, cracking one eye open. “What’d I miss?”

“The whole thing, Susie!” Lancer gathers up the scroll and spreads it out across the floor. He needs almost the entire length of the hall to do it. Susie reads over his shoulder as he skims the essay, which is truly an essay, with a thesis statement, supporting points, and a formal conclusion. The thesis statement is, “The prince who wants to win my hand should confess his feelings to me under a full moon while an angelic choir sings, the darkness pillar gives off shining rays of prophetic light, and roses rain from the sky, and here’s how and why!”

“Wow, he got really into this, didn’t he?” Susie mutters as Lancer wildly scans the entire bulk of essay, which goes into precise detail about what kind of roses will be there, and how the heroic prince will dismount his royal motorcycle and pull Ralsei into a swooning embrace. “This is like an entire goddamn romance novel. Wow. I mean, we knew Dr. Toothpaste was a huge sap, but damn.”

Lancer crumples the paper in his hands in abject despair. “Susie,” he whispers, “there’s no way I could ever pull this off. And I don’t mean just logistically! Although that’s also true.” Ralsei’s dashing dream prince rides an actual motorcycle, not just a flaming pedal bike, and he's also tall and suave and  _ really  _ good at hugging. Lancer may be a king and in command of many adjectives, but dashing has never been and will never be one of them. 

“Hey, don’t be down on yourself, my guy.” Susie pats his back. “You can’t give up now. Get the dude some flowers and have the hathys throw them at him or whatever.”

“You really think so?” Lancer shifts the huge roll of paper again. “You don’t think it’s hopeless and I should just give up now?”

“Nah, I don’t think you should give up. You’re a cool guy and he’d be lucky to have you, and if he doesn’t get that then I’m sorry for his weird nerdy taste.” Lancer isn’t smiling again yet, but he is frowning a little less. “And don’t forget, I still have another person in the Lightner world we haven’t asked yet, and she’s, like, the queen of the goddamn place.”

“Really?” Lancer brims with hope. “What’s she like?”

Susie sighs, already fearing for her life. “She’s SO freaking scary, dude.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toriel Dreemurr knows everything about everybody. That's why her fur is so big. It's full of secrets.


	3. Two Princes, Or, The Care and Hugging of Your Favorite Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the lovely comments! I hope y'all enjoy this last installment.

“So you are Kris’s friend! How nice.”

Kris’s mom beams at Susie from across the kitchen table as she dunks a tea bag into a steaming mug. “You have not touched your tea, Susie! Would you like some more sugar?”

“N-no, it’s fine. It’s great tea.” Susie chugs a gulp just to make Toriel happy and nearly chokes on her scalded tongue. “Yeah, so, thanks for having me over, Mrs. Dreemurr--”

“Just Mrs. Toriel is fine,” says Toriel with narrowed eyes. 

“Yeah. Um.” Kris is sitting there, bangs in their eyes, stoic and silent as can be. Sure would be nice if they could give her a hand. It’s their own mom, after all. Susie doesn’t know shit about how to handle good mothers like Toriel. “Sure is nice to um. Meet you?” Toriel’s eyes remain narrowed. “I mean? Outside of school I guess?”

Toriel relaxes, smiling at the two of them over the rims of her reading glasses. “I feel the same, Susie. I was very pleased to hear that Kris has made a new friend.”

Susie laughs awkwardly and a yet more deeply awkward silence descends on the Dreemurr kitchen, warm and filled with the scent of cinnamon. Now here’s a place she would’ve once thought less likely for her to ever go than some freaky alternate dimension, and yet now she’s seen both. Sure has been a weird couple months. 

“Do you like butterscotch pie, Susie?” asks Toriel.

“I like all pie, um, ma’am.”

“Now, while we wait on the pie,” Toriel clasps her hands. “Kris suggested to me earlier that there was something the two of you wished to speak to me about.”

Susie shoots Kris an incredulous look. Is it just her, or are they smiling a little bit? “I have nowhere else to be until the timer goes off!” laughs Toriel, sipping from her teacup.

Susie gulps a huge breath. This is it. This is their last resort. On the one hand, Kris’s mom is a font of maternal wisdom and the essential ruler of Hometown, which makes her a far superior authority to anyone they’ve consulted so far. 

On the other hand, Susie is sure if Kris’s mom disapproves of her, the shame will physically kill her instantly. 

She really IS Lancer’s super best friend forever for all time. She hopes he appreciates the depth of her devotion.

Susie accepts another mugful from Toriel’s kettle with reluctance. “We wanted to ask you about uh.” The tea feels like it’s going to come back up the other way. “Relationship stuff?”

For a moment Toriel’s eyes go dim and faraway, and she looks deeply sad, weighed down by old hurts Kris must know about but never speaks of. But then her lips peel back into a shining smile that puts all her fangs on full display. Susie has never been more afraid in her life. “Is that so? So who in the classroom are you thinking of, Susie?”

She gives Susie a weighted look that somehow communicates “I didn’t personally see you and Noelle going to the diner and back to her house together, but I know at least five people who did and they tell me everything because I rule over this town with both a gentle hand and the cold iron power of raw fear” in less than a second.

Susie shakes her head wildly, hair falling into her eyes. “Not me! It’s not for me.”

“Or me,” Kris volunteers, sipping from their own tea mug. What a nice time to chime in. Susie’s gotten fond of the dude, but goddamn if quiet people aren’t still pissing her off a little bit.

“Yeah. We’ve got a friend who, um, likes a boy, but he doesn’t know how to talk to him about it.”

“I see. I see.” Toriel squints. “Tell me about your friend.”

“Uhhh, well, he’s super cool and rides a--- he rides a bike, and he has a lot of enthusiasm, and he likes digging holes and crafts that involve scissors and he has semi-okay taste in music and he does, uuhhhh, he’s a member of the student leadership council.” Susie crosses her arms. 

Kris is watching from behind their hair with quiet amusement. “Could use some help here,” says Susie through gritted teeth.

“No, you’ve got it,” mumbles Kris.

“Well, he sounds like a delight. I would love to meet him sometime.”

“Um, that might be kinda hard. He lives… in another country. We’re internet friends,” Susie supplies.

“Hmm. Well, I have always warned Kris and Asriel about the many dangers of The Online, but if you are staying safe, then it cannot hurt to have more friends.” Toriel plops some sugar in Kris’s tea without urging. They don’t respond, but Susie can tell they’re happy. “And the boy he likes?”

Susie leans back. “Oh, he’s a massive do--I mean, uh, he’s. An intellectual. He wears glasses and reads a lot and makes cakes.”

“Perhaps we could swap recipes sometime, on The Online!” says Toriel.  Susie shoots another look at Kris, her panic growing. “How sweet, that your friend has a crush on a nice boy. But what exactly is it that he is having trouble with?”

“Well, he, uh, just doesn’t know how to get him to like him back, I guess.”

Toriel folds her hands on the tabletop. “And has your friend tried being direct? Simply telling the young man how he feels?”

Susie tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Uhhh, not like that, exactly, but--”

“Why not?”

Susie blinks. “I don’t know? I guess fear of rejection or whatever?”

The oven timer chimes. “Oh, excuse me, dear,” smiles Toriel as she ties on her apron and pulls the pie from the oven, filling the whole kitchen with curling, cinnamon-scented steam. 

Susie’s probably not going to get invited back if she crams the whole thing in her mouth, but it’s taking literally  _ all  _ her self-control. Kris and Lancer better be grateful. “Would you like some pie, Susie?”

WOULD she. Susie nods so hard she almost falls out of her chair. She just barely remembers to say thanks as Toriel presents them both with huge wedges of the pie.

Toriel settles back in her chair with her own slice. “Well, your friend might not like my advice--Kris’s brother Asriel certainly did not, when he was dealing with his first crushes.” Toriel sighs as she rests her chin on a paw. “But it is the only advice I have and the only advice that is worthwhile.”

Susie leans in a little, despite herself. Kris doesn’t, but she thinks maybe they’re smiling a little bit again.

“The truth is,” says Toriel, setting her teacup back in its saucer with a decisive click, “you must be direct and honest. There is no cheat, no way around possible rejection. Any relationship--whether it is romantic, friendship, or the bond between family, is the same, and involves opening yourself to others’ potential to hurt you.”

“Damn, that’s raw,” Susie mutters to herself, thoughtlessly.

Toriel grins that fang-baring smile again. “Yes, Susie, it is quite raw. To care for others is to be vulnerable with them.” She beams a content, maternal smile across the table. “Well? You go and tell your friend, and come back and let me know how things turn out for him. I think his special boy will appreciate his honesty, no matter what the answer is.”

Susie has to slump against the outside of the house and huff deep breaths for a little bit before she can walk home. Kris brings her her jacket, which she forgot slung across the back of the chair she’d used. “Shit, dude, how is it possible that your mom is so nice but also SO terrifying?”

Kris shrugs one shoulder. "Did good," they say. "Mom likes you."  


Susie squares her own. The power of Toriel Dreemurr's approval shines within her. "Thanks, dude." 

She survived her greatest fear to get Lancer this precious advice. But whether he can actually use it, well. Lancer’s her best friend, but let’s face it, direct honesty about feelings isn’t exactly his strongest… suit. And ugh, god damn it, now she’s punning again. 

  
  
  


At Susie’s encouragement, Lancer is still trying to put Ralsei’s plans in action. The plans are not going well. The plans are, in fact, going very bad.

First off, an angelic choir is kind of out of the question, but even the Card Kingdom’s closest equivalent--which is Clover, some of her clubs friends, and Diamonds King, who has a surprisingly pure voice--can’t agree on what song is romantic enough for them to sing, and who in the hell knows how he’s going to get the darkness pillar to flash prophetic light. 

He’s in the middle of poring over Ralsei’s essay yet again when none other than Ralsei himself interrupts him with a polite “Excuse me.”

Lancer stuffs the incriminating paper behind his back, which is ineffective as it is eighteen feet long, and frantically tries to roll it up. “Gooooooood morning, my sweet artichoke! Whaaaaat can I do for you?” Totally casual and not at all suspicious. Nailed it.

Ralsei clears his throat. “Um. Lancer? I’ve got a question for you.”

“Sure, okay.” Lancer is trying to be less sweaty. It’s not working, but it’s the thought that counts. 

“I have to, um, run some errands to get… some stuff. I was wondering if you didn’t mind coming with me.” Ralsei fiddles with his scarf.

“Sorry, pumpkin, I’m kind of busy with--uh, serious monarchical matters.” How’s he ever going to get the rose petals to properly rain from the ceiling?

“Oh. Okay. I’ll go by myself then.” And Ralsei looks so gloomy, shrinking into his hat and scarf until his fluff nearly disappears, that Lancer’s heart squeezes.

Screw the rose petals. “Wait. Changed my mind. These extremely important administrative matters can wait.”

Ralsei’s nose wrinkles. “Are you sure? I don’t want to cause the kingdom any trouble--”

“I’m positive, you sweet bushel of grapes. Let’s go wake up Bike.”

It’s cold and brisk today in the dark world. The trees in the scarlet forest have almost shed all their leaves. They scatter as Lancer pedals through the piles, chill wind slapping his cheeks. “Here you go,” says Ralsei, giving him an extra loop of scarf when he shivers.

This was so worth it.

“So where we going? Grocery King?”

“Um, ah, no, I have to pick up some things from, um. My house.”

The bike comes to a screeching halt, giving off a jet of fire in its wake. “Sorry, I thought you just said your house.” Ralsei hasn’t returned to his home since arriving in the Card Kingdom, and Lancer hasn’t set foot in the place since he tried to attack the rest of The Fun Gang on his dad’s orders. Not his finest moment. He isn’t even sure if the big-ass old door will open.

“I did,” says Ralsei from beneath the brim of his hat. “I just need to pick a couple things up. Is that okay?”

“Well of course it’s okay, you precious avocado, I just wanted to make sure I heard you right.” Lancer resumes pedaling.

The denizens of the Card Kingdom are out and about, raking up and/or eating the fallen leaves, setting up the bake sale, hammering broken armor. They wave at their king and his royal advisor as the bike flies by. Lancer returns the gesture, the bike swerving wildly. Ralsei clings to his back with little squeaks. So, so worth it.  


But as they pass out of the forest and over the fields, the figures fade away, a cold silence descending broken only by the wind. Lancer honks the horn on his bike just for the noise. He thinks Ralsei’s fallen asleep back there, but every so often Ralsei stirs. Just being quiet. And then they arrive at the other kingdom.

That big-ass double door is shut again. Lancer spent a lot of time when he was bored trying to crack that thing. Not even either of his dads could ever figure it out. 

“Um, I have to open it,” said Ralsei. He gives it a little push. It creaks loudly and dramatically as both doors swing open onto streets paved with gleaming black stone.

To be completely honest, Lancer hadn’t really paid a whole lot of attention the first time he’d come to this town. He was so intent on looking cool and impressing his dad, which took a lot of energy, that all the buildings blurred together in lines of neon blue.

Now that he actually looks, though, the place seems kind of sad. All the buildings appear to be slumped over in exhaustion. Their empty white windows gape like fallen teeth. He jiggles a couple of door handles on the way up the steps, first the inn and something that looks like a shop, even if there’s no way to tell what it’s supposed to be selling through its blank abyss of a window. 

“You don’t have to bother,” says Ralsei. “They’re all locked.”

What a weird town. And Lancer knows weird. 

“Hey, Dr. Toothpaste. Where are the other people?”

Ralsei stands very still. “There aren’t any,” he says.

“What do you mean, there aren’t any? There can’t not be a single person in this town.”

“There was a single person, and that person was me. So now there aren’t any.” Ralsei says it matter-of-factly, like he’s giving Lancer another lesson in battle mechanics, but he’s gone quiet again, lifting his snout to peer up, eyes unfocused, at the fountain. “They were all long gone by the time I showed up.”

“You okay?” Lancer asks after a few seconds.

“Fine, thank you for asking.” But he doesn’t sound fine. His voice is getting smaller and smaller as they descend the stairs to the castle. The pillar of darkness is still going strong, erupting into the sky and casting a soft, ethereal violet glow over the castle roof. Ralsei waves at it. “Hello, pillar! I’m home!”

The pillar does not respond, as it is an unending pillar of darkness. Lancer waves at it anyway, to be nice. 

As they pass the stone court leading to the castle’s front door, Lancer is able to hear it hum, a deep thrumming all the way down to the tips of his toes. The Card Castle pillar hummed too, and he’d liked the sound. But here, the only noise in the vast silence, without all the varied cacophony of Card Castle layered on top of it (banging, crashing, the chill mood music drifting from Rouxl’s shop, the distant thud of the eternal clubs party a floor down) it’s actually sort of irritating, like something stuck in his teeth.

Ralsei looks down at his feet as they shuffle across the stone. Lancer says, “Hey, sorry about that time I drove my bike into your face. That wasn’t cool.”

“It’s all right,” says Ralsei mildly. “You’ve had some character development.”

The vast front door to the castle also creaks open at Ralsei’s touch. “You know, I never asked how you and your father knew the Lightners were coming.”

“Oh, I don’t know anything.” Lancer shrugs cheerily and pokes out his tongue. “My dad never explained stuff like that to me. He just showed up at my room that day and saw my holes and it became a _whole_ big deal. Hohoho.” That’s pretty good, he should save that. “And he told me to go make myself useful instead of being a huge $%&!-ing nuisance for a change, and not to get too attached. And also take a shower since I heard him say a Tier Three swear. But it didn’t work, since here I am, saying swears and poisoned by sentimentality!” His voice echoes through the empty town and bounces back at him. “But it’s okay, I like myself better this way.”

“I like you better, too,” says Ralsei shyly.

Beyond the front door yawns an open white hall that could fit the entire Card Castle inside it, and it’s filled with stairs. They go up, they go down, they go sideways and zigzag. Open doorways wink at random angles along their path. Just looking at it makes Lancer’s brain itch. 

“We should probably stay together. Otherwise you might get lost.”

That’s not a  _ might _ , that’s a  _ will.  _ Lancer casts a suspicious eye over the jagged stairwells. He’d expected the inside of Ralsei’s home to be like Ralsei--squishy, soft, adorable, a good and precious bag of almonds. Not this hollow husk of a place.

They ascend a curling spiral of stairs that corkscrew sideways, then descend again, with their feet aiming where their heads were five seconds ago. Lancer thinks he might be sick. They pass empty bedrooms with perfectly folded, untouched blankets, empty offices hung with empty picture frames, an empty kitchen full of gleaming appliances. There’s a recipe book left open on the counter.

“Speaking of your dad, have you talked to him lately?” Ralsei asks, and his voice echoes onward and onward into the empty air.

“Sure have. He’s still being super cranky. I think he should stay in time out until he can stop threatening to kill my friends or throw me off roofs. It might take awhile, though.”

“I think that’s probably for the best. But I’m sorry, Lancer. I know how much you cared about keeping him safe.” Ralsei pats Lancer’s shoulder. It tingles.

“Yeah, he sucks huge ass, but he’s still my dad, you know? Sometimes I miss him a little. But I feel less bad now than I did when he was the king and the dad. So that’s just how it is.” Speaking of families, there’s a conspicuous lack of anything resembling one in this royal castle. “What about your family, Ralsei?”

“I don’t have one,” says Ralsei, pulling his scarf further over his snout as he walks a little more briskly down the stairwell they’re descending--ascending? going up sideways?--which turns into a sloping ramp that ends in yet another wide set of golden double doors. The ramp seems to be getting longer the further they walk. 

Lancer scurries after him, trying to stay close so he can grab Ralsei's scarf if he falls. “But you came from somewhere, right?” Lancer’s dad never gave him The Talk, but he bothered Rouxls about it until Rouxls told him instead, albeit a highly censored version. 

“My body was given form by the pillar of darkness,” says Ralsei.

“Ohhhhh, so it’s like your dad?” 

“Sort of, I guess,” Ralsei shrugs. “The prince of our realm has always been created by the pillar as a means of its protection, and of preserving the balance. That’s why I exist.”

“So you were just here by yourself the whole time?” Sounds terrible and boring. Lancer gets why Ralsei doesn’t ever want to go home.

“My entire life. Yes.” Just like the big-ass door in the fields and the castle gate, the huge set of golden doors respond to Ralsei’s light touch and groan open. On the other side is a vast library with shelves stretching in every direction. Even the floor and ceiling are books, aside from a little square of white stone surrounding the doorway. More walkways and stairs that aren’t interested in obeying the laws of gravity stretch out like a web.

“Whoa,” Lancer mutters. That’s way more books than he’s ever seen before, and he’s seen, like, five whole books.

“Here we are. I won’t take long, I promise. Please stay here by the door, if that’s okay? I really don’t want you to get lost.” And right here by the door, among all the books, is a little pile of pillows (neatly stacked) and blankets (neatly folded) beside a tower of books and a box labeled, in flawless looping cursive, RALSEI’S SEWING, beside its twin RALSEI’S KNITTING. 

Lancer peeks inside the RALSEI’S KNITTING box while Ralsei yanks a pair of books from beneath his robe and finds their empty places on the shelves. Inside is a stack of neatly rolled scarves, in all different kinds of colors, a checker pattern, a few rainbows, some with flower designs. An unfinished work in progress is curled around a pair of knitting needles.

“Just a second! Sorry to make you wait!” Ralsei calls from the stacks. Lancer thinks about Ralsei in this awful castle, all by himself, for his entire life, knitting scarf after scarf for imaginary people in the empty town he was born to guard, and it tightens his chest and makes him feel cold all over. This is a feeling he actually knows. He used to feel this way all the time, before the Lightners came, when he was surrounded by various obligatory guys all the time but never had any friends. 

Ralsei didn’t even have obligatory guys. It was just him and the scarves and his duty. Lancer’s thought of Ralsei as being really different than him, because Ralsei shows how lonely he’s always been in different ways. But underneath it they’re the same. 

He can almost hear a triumphant fanfare in the distance. The power of greater empathy and understanding for another person shines within him.

“I’m back! Thanks for waiting for me!” Ralsei hurries back to the door, clutching a red-bound book that’s thick as a brick to his chest. 

“You’re always welcome, you cute little chestnut. Whatcha got there?” 

Ralsei stuffs the tome underneath his robe before Lancer can sneak a peek at the title. “N-nothing! Just boring nerd stuff! You wouldn’t like it! H-hey, while we’re here, I have something for you!”

He opens his RALSEI’S KNITTING box and rummages around, coming back up with a long blue scarf with a pattern that looks like flames. “Here! It’s for you, for when you get cold on your bike!” He holds it out to Lancer. “I made this a long time ago for a cool guy I hoped I’d meet someday. And now I know you, and I get to give it to you.”

Lancer loops the scarf around his neck. The downside is, he doesn’t have an excuse to share a scarf with Ralsei anymore, but the upside is Ralsei is giving him a beautiful present that he made with his own hands and now he gets to wear it forever and tell people about it. “Do you like it?” Ralsei asks, hesitantly.

“I love it, you darling little rutabaga,” he says, and his eyes might be just a little teary behind his visor. He swishes it back and forth with a bounce in his step as they backtrack through the empty castle. 

Ralsei pauses on the steps. “Bye, darkness pillar!” he says, waving again. “Good to see you!” The pillar does not respond, as it is a bad father.

Lancer doesn’t wave this time, because he’s decided he doesn’t like Ralsei’s pillar dad much. “It wasn’t very kind of your pillar dad to make you stay here all by yourself such a long time and tell you you just have to serve the prophecy.”

Ralsei appears both surprised and confused by this statement. “But… that’s just how it is. It’s like that for other Darkners too. We can only feel satisfied and useful when we’re assisting the Lightners. It’s our purpose in life.”

Lancer shrugs. “I dunno. I like to help Kris and Susie because it makes me feel soft and warm inside. But they’re my friends, and I feel that way when I help the people in my kingdom, too, and when I do stuff I like. Maybe all those things can be my duties. Maybe it can be like that for you, too, even if your dad is very uncool and tells you you’re only allowed to have one.”

Ralsei stops short. “Wow. That’s… Um, wow. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. But that’s a… that’s a really nice thing to say.” Lancer grins a wide, toothy grin, feeling successfully soft and warm inside. Ralsei, lost in thought, almost gets them lost for real in the maze of the abandoned town.

“Thanks for coming with me, Lancer. I’m glad you kept me company. Do you mind if we make one more stop before we go back to Card Castle? I want to show you my dummy.”

Lancer is instantly jealous of any other dumb people out there competing for Ralsei’s attention, but Ralsei’s dummy is a real, literal dummy, standing alone on the edge of town. “Hi, Dummy! I missed you! This is my friend Lancer, king of the Card Castle! And Lancer, this is Dummy. Dummy was my only friend for a long time. I never even hugged anyone else until Kris and Susie came here.” Ralsei tries to laugh all casual-like, but it’s just squeaky and hiccupy, like he’s about to start crying.

Lancer can’t fathom somebody going their whole life without anyone to talk to or anyone to hug. Even  _ his _ dad hugged him sometimes. Okay, so it was only a one-armed side hug unless he made Son Of The Month, but still.   


“Hey Ralsei,” he says. “I wanna show you something. Did you know I can assume another alternate form in times of emergency?”

“No. What kind of emergency?” says Ralsei, his voice gone small again.

Lancer throws his arms around Ralsei and squeezes tight. Ralsei makes a little squeal of surprise. “This is my Hug Forme,” Lancer mumbles into Ralsei’s fur. “It’s for giving really tight emergency hugs.”

“I can see that,” says Ralsei with a shaky little giggle. “It’s very nice.”

“You want Hug Time to be over?”

“No,” says Ralsei.

“Okay. Cool. Just say when.”

It becomes clear that Ralsei doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands. He gives Lancer a couple awkward little pats to his shoulders, then lightly rests his hands on Lancer’s back, then shifts them upwards and back down again. Lancer doesn’t mind. It kinda tickles. But if he sweats on Ralsei it’s going to ruin the moment. 

Finally, Ralsei works up the resolve to give him a little squeeze in return. Lancer’s arms are trembling with exhaustion, but he’s also glowing inside, so they can hold on a little bit longer.

He still has to break before Ralsei calls it, though. “I-I can go for longer! I just need a little rest. The tiniest rest.”

“It’s okay, Lancer.” Ralsei’s cheeks glows candy pink. “That was a really nice hug. Thank you.”

Energized by this unexpected praise, Lancer says, “You never have to hug that dumb dummy ever again because I can assume hug forme anytime you want. My arms are super strong.”

His arms are jelly and he’s never going to grip anything ever again. He's going to have to start doing hug cardio if he wants to keep up with Ralsei's stamina.  


“And you never have to come back to this awful garbage place because me and the rest of the Card Kingdom will build you your own book room at home, where you live, because we like to see your cute little toothpaste smile and we like  _ you _ . I like you! Well, I mean, not like-like you--” He waves his hands. “Except I DO like-like you--”

Oh,  _ shit _ . All that planning and preparation and hard work and then it just pops right the heck out on its own, like a screw coming loose from a poorly constructed thrash machine. 

He tries to accelerate out of it, just like he does when he fumbles a jump on his bike. It basically never works. “I mean I like-like you like I think you’re the sweetest and your face is pretty and I want to snuggle your fluff. But I ALSO like you because you’re just a generally delightful monster. So even if you’re not interested in taking romantic naps with me, you can still be my other best friend forever and live in the Card Castle, because you’re  _ our  _ prince now, and this clown town can SUCK IT.” 

Ralsei blinks in surprised silence. 

Lancer heaves a deep breath. “S-so do you have anything to say to that? You glorious butternut squash? 

“Hey, Lancer?”

Lancer gulps. “Yeah?”

“What’s a romantic nap?”

“It’s like a normal nap, but with more cuddling.”

“That sounds nice.” Ralsei shyly wrings his hat, looking sideways at the dummy, still flushed. “I think I want to try that.”

“Really?!” Lancer’s so excited he throws his arms around Ralsei again, even though they flop and bounce off like wet noodles. “Can we hold hands and stuff? Do you wanna be my boyfriend??” Ralsei is so pink it looks like he’s about to leak steam out of his ears. “My dad says I’m not allowed to have boyfriends yet, but I’m the king now so what I say goes!” Ralsei plays with the tip of one of his ears. He looks nervous.

Lancer is struck by the bleak fear that maybe Ralsei just feels obligated because he doesn’t want to make Lancer upset, like everyone in the kingdom felt obligated to go along with him because his dad made them. “Or… you can take it back if you’re having regrets. Other super best friend forever option is still on the table.” 

At the rate Ralsei’s wringing his hat he’s going to shred it. It feels a bit like he’s wringing Lancer’s heart. “I don’t know a whole lot about… dating or liking someone, or hugging, or romantic naps. Or, um, people. So sometimes I might get shy, but it’s not because I don’t like you. Or because I don’t like-like you.”

Logically, this sentence should mean that Ralsei  _ does _ like-like Lancer, but it doesn’t quite compute, just like the royal budget after they replace all the wall sconces the ruddins sold. He’s rattling it around in his head as Ralsei continues, “Um… that means I thought maybe you were interested, but I wasn’t sure? So I came and got this, um, to help me out, because I was having a hard time. B-but that’s not your fault!” It is  _ kinda _ Lancer’s fault, though.

He draws that gigantic book out of his robe. “Here… since I wouldn’t let you see before…” The title reads, “LOVE AND DATING FOR DARKNERS: A ROMANCE PRIMER FOR GOOD BOYS.”

“What… you’ve been doing  _ nerd research _ ? On whether or not I’m trying to flirt with you?” Ralsei nods, his flushing overtaking his entire face.

Lancer flips through a few pages, struck with helpless, full-on Baby Santa Claus laughter. “We’re both useless!”

“Hey!” says Ralsei, but fondly. “I’ve lived alone in an empty castle my whole life! I just wanted to, um, make sure that was what was really happening, and not, um, just what I wanted to see, because, um… I’ve really gotten to like spending time with you at the castle, and um, um, um, um…”

Lancer’s brain finally stops rattling around for five seconds. “You like me too?” Ralsei bites his lip and nods. 

This is new and surprising knowledge. The plan was always about how to win Ralsei over. He’d never considered the possibility that it wouldn’t ever be necessary.  “Really, though? A crush on  _ me _ ?”

“I can have crushes too!” Ralsei insists. 

“Yeah, but  _ me? _ The weird kid?” He’s paradoxically a little sorry for Ralsei’s taste.

“You’re not a weird kid, Lancer. You’re the king of the Darkners! And there’s lots of things to like about you.”

“That’s because you always see the best in people, you sweet little salsa honeypot,” Lancer says. 

“I like that you try so hard at being a good king, even if it means you have to learn new things, and all the fun ideas you come up with, and how even though you were supposed to be a bad guy, you’ve come around to the side of heroism because you’re nice and care about other people so much. Also, your bike wheelies are. Pretty cool.”

“Huh. No one’s ever called me nice before.”

“You  _ are _ nice, Lancer.”

“No,  _ you’re _ nice, you precious little cabbage.” Lancer helps Ralsei back onto the bike. “Now let’s blow this clown town.”

He cranks up the spoiler on the bike to Extra Fire Mode (™ Even Flamier), for good measure. 

“Goodbye, weird town. Goodbye, creepy castle. Goodbye, pillar of darkness that gives Ralsei’s body form! You’re a terrible dad but you did make him very huggable, so thanks for that! Goodbye, stupid dummy!” Lancer honks his bike horn. “SO LONG, SUCKERS!” And he makes a rude gesture Susie taught him, which is technically a Tier Three swear but he thinks the situation warrants it, and pops a sick wheelie on the way out for good measure. 

“Yeah!” Ralsei tries to repeat the gesture. It’s not quite right, but it’s the thought that counts. They can work on teaching him how to be rowdy. 

They ride back to the castle, Ralsei perched sideways on the back of the bike with one arm around Lancer, resting his chin on Lancer’s shoulder. Lancer only bounces over five rocks and grazes a single tree, which is pretty amazing considering his track record.

“So when we get back to the castle there might be five thousand honey dates and a rehearsing choir in the entrance hallway. Don’t worry about it. Just don’t even think too hard about it.”

“Why do you have--Oh.” Ralsei flushes again. “You mean my, um, essay? I might have gotten a little carried away? I spent so much time by myself that I had a lot of time to, um, imagine what it would be like when I finally got to meet other people. Including nice, cute people. It’s okay if real life is different, though.”

“But I can still get the hathys to throw some roses from the ceiling. If you really want them.”

“Really?!” Ralsei giggles, and it’s like the sweet chime of bells. It’s so adorable Lancer almost bites his own tongue. That boy can have all the ceiling roses he wants.

Susie is waiting on the castle steps. “Guy! Guys!!” she runs towards them, waving her arms. “Wait… wait…” She takes in the fact that Ralsei and Lancer are holding hands. “Whoa,” she hisses. “Fingers laced and everything, man. That’s some strong game.”

“Yeah, I’m smooth now,” Lancer whispers in return. 

“And you didn’t even need the advice I risked my life to get from Kris’s scary-ass mom! You did it all on your own. That’s pretty badass.”

“Well, kind of. I had some help.” He squeezes Ralsei’s hand. Ralsei giggles again. 

“I’m going to make Susie a cake, but come find me in a little bit, okay? I think.. I’ll be a little sleepy when I’m done. Like I need a nap,” says Ralsei. And he skips back into the castle, pulling his scarf up over his red face. Lancer, struck speechless by the idea of near-future romantic naps, waves after him.

Susie crosses her arms with a grin. “Hey, I know how you can pay me back in exchange for helping you out with this.”

“Whatever you want, Susie. You’re my super best friend forever.”

“If, um, say, theoretically, we can bring other Lightners here to visit, and one of them is a cute girl who smells like nutmeg, can I borrow your motorcycle to take her for a ride? Y’know. Theoretically.”

“Will she mind if it’s only theoretically a motorcycle?”

“Whatever, dude. Even if it doesn’t add fifteen hundred whole points to my coolness and attractiveness meters, it’s  _ still  _ an excuse for full-body contact and shit.”

“Yeah, theoretically,” says Lancer with an exaggerated nod, since Susie can’t see him winking under his visor. “Bike doesn’t like other people, but since you’re my super best friend forever it can make an exception.”

And then they go and eat Ralsei’s delicious cake, and Ralsei is  _ really sleepy _ after all that mixing. So he and Ralsei take a romantic nap, which is extremely nice and soft. Naps are one of Lancer’s favorite things and he thought they couldn’t get any better. But he was wrong. 

He was so, so wrong, and it’s great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *toriel voice* IF WE WANT THE REWARDS OF BEING LOVED, WE HAVE TO SUBMIT TO THE MORTIFYING ORDEAL OF BEING KNOWN!!*
> 
> *please thank auntie-diluvian for this stellar goof
> 
> My favorite part of this experience has been making up silly pet names for Lancer to use. So thanks for reading, you darling little rutabagas!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be fine! Absolutely nothing goes wrong, that's it that's the end of the fic!


End file.
